


Salvation

by thecaryatid



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, F/M, Nagamas 2019, Post-Canon, and byleth's love, rhea's regrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:13:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22108420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecaryatid/pseuds/thecaryatid
Summary: Rhea's regrets and Byleth's love, after the war.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Rhea
Comments: 2
Kudos: 55





	Salvation

**Author's Note:**

> A Nagamas gift for starichampion on tumblr! They requested m!Byleth/Rhea. I hope you enjoy!

“I feel as though your acceptance alone is my salvation,” Rhea said. “But not everyone is pleased with my survival. Is it truly acceptable for me to go on living my own life?”

In the light of the dawn Byleth doesn’t know how to answer, not that that’s anything strange. He’s quiet more often than not, even though the dragon’s heart in his chest long since unlocked the flow of his emotions.

Byleth offers a ring, hopes that the light in his eyes speaks all she needs to know, and speaks out loud for good measure, because there are occasionally things that shouldn’t be left to lingering glances and meaningful gifts.

“You have always had my acceptance, Rhea. Can you accept my love?” He fills his voice with all the warmth he knows how to grasp. 

Her smile is brighter than the stars and the future they’ll build together, and Byleth has never been happier.

But Rhea had a point. Not in her doubt over the worth of her own life, but in the reactions the world will have to her. Not everyone is happy; too many people saw her at the end, ruler turned to ravening beast. Too many people have heard of the way she manipulated history and scripture to her own ends. 

It bothers her. It bothers them both, but Byleth has been accustomed to judgement for all his life, and his seat as a ruler is no different. Rhea – she was vilified as the archbishop, but only by people she could cast as enemies. She was adored by the world, the next best thing to the goddess, the waystone of prayer and promise.

Byleth knows that time will heal everything, eventually. They have nothing but time, and the power in his veins whispers of the brevity of human memory compared to the lives of his kind. But the doubt is in Rhea’s mind as well, deserved or not, and there’s no outwaiting that. 

She smiles through it. The serene mask of the holy mother is hard to abandon. And Byleth – he’s good at comforting through gifts and tea and a careful listening ear, by knowing exactly what someone  _ needs _ . Not by choosing the right words; even after everything words seem slow and halting, and he saves most of them for his duty as ruler. It’s a gift, perhaps even a divine one. It’s a curse, when Rhea can’t be comforted with a fresh bouquet of flowers and a smile.

Every night, in the sacred quiet of their grand bedroom, he tears down her serenity and pieces it back together. Pressing deep inside her and then soothing with his tongue, conferring comfort in the rhythm of their breathing, gifting divinity back to the child of the goddess with every kiss.

His acceptance, she said, is all she needs. Rhea has more than that. She has his adoration, his love; she’s the recipient of every secret thought he’s had since the first time his world ended. She’s the target of his sincerest smiles. Byleth is still learning to smile, and she laughs and kisses him when he practices in private. He practices often, just for that.

Rhea supports him in private encouragement and with the weight of her adoration. Even at her lowest moments she never locks herself away entirely. 

It’s enough. Of course it’s enough. Just the silk of her skin and the broken warmth of her smile are more than Byleth could have dreamed of. But she always seemed more alive in front of a crowd, speaking to children and wisdom-seekers and all who looked to her for guidance.

It’s enough, of course it’s enough, but her pain lingers and his compassion grows. 

It takes months of careful nights.

But one day Rhea wakes up when he does. 

Every morning Byleth has offered his hand, asked for help in his endless diplomacy and decision-making. Every morning she refused and smiled so sadly he wishes his kiss was the antidote to all of her pain. Even he, inheritor of the progenitor god’s power, could not accomplish that.

Today is different. Rhea’s eyes are sad still but she takes his hand, smiling through her veil of regrets.

“How can I continue to deny you? You are so insistent, my love, and so attentive to my needs.”

Byleth kisses the offered hand, hoping.

“Very well. I shall accompany you, if you are quite sure it is not too presumptuous.”

It will never be too presumptuous. Byleth has a crown he never particularly wanted; sharing the weight would only be welcomed. “Nothing could make me happier.”

It’s the first of many days they face together, Rhea always the steady presence at Byleth’s side, lending him the wisdom of her thousand years of life and the support of her undying heart.

In time his acceptance mingles with her own, a salvation shared. 


End file.
